


Red Carpet; Rosy Cheeks.

by TheBitterWriterOfBritannia



Category: Impractical Jokers
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Petting, Jealousy, M/M, Nipple Play, Porn with Feelings, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content, Teasing, pinning, there's a vague plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 11:45:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16533995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBitterWriterOfBritannia/pseuds/TheBitterWriterOfBritannia
Summary: Prompt: “Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.”Q doesn't like Sal even entertaining anyone else, and Sal doesn't like Q keeping him at arms length.





	Red Carpet; Rosy Cheeks.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this like a year ago and didn't post it-- I just gave it a little clean up now and though eh, why not!

"Everyone has a date except me." Q begrudges, frowning at his reflection as he adjusts the cuffs of his jacket.

As their careers grew ever more successful, the number of high profile events they were invited to grew, with tonight's movie premier being one of those prestigious settings. They were always a good excuse to pull out the best of the best outfits and scrub up for a change. Usually they went as a four, but this time was different. Bessy had found a babysitter so Joe without question was bringing her, James had found himself settling down with a woman he'd been dating, and Sal had mustered up the courage to bring a date; "in _public_ "to everyone's surprise- no secrets or shame about it. That left Q on his lonesome, to watch all his friends loved up and delighted, while he miserably dragged himself nearby.

It probably wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't involved in a friends-with-benefits situation with Sal for over a year. Something he'd come to cherish shamefully, the way they could fall so deep into the pit of their feelings, and come up for air only when on the brick of passing out. It wouldn't be so bad that he was alone if he didn't feel so close to someone already. The idea of watching him all smiles and dimples for someone else was devastating. When Sal told him- or more so,  _asked_  him if it was alright to bring a date, Q had laughed it off and teased Sal. " _Of course it's alright! Don't let me stop ya getting some. It's not as if **we're**  dating!_" But when he really let the notion settle, that's exactly what he wanted. Over compensating moans, and loose limbs when tangled together, Brian was a little lost without Sal, and terrified of losing him if they committed. That's why they'd never labelled their hookups- but to Brian's horror, Sal was still fucking sweet enough to ask if he was allowed to date someone else. 

Murr rolls his eyes as he watches Q glare at his reflection, spinning him around and doing up another button on his shirt. "You could have mustered up a date, ya know? You've plenty of names in that little black book of yours."

Q bats Murr's hands away. "I thought we had a pack or some shit, we go as a group. Since when did any of us bring dates?"

"Maybe when Gatto got married," Murr laughs, "Or maybe when we grew up and it wasn't all bros before hoes bullshit." He pushes Q aside to fuss over himself. He straightens his jacket, tucks in his shirt tighter, and smiles at the devilishly handsome man staring back at him. "Who cares anyway, man."

In a perfect world, Q wouldn't. He'd be as free as a bird, probably would have wrangled himself a date, someone who'd fit conveniently in between the spaces of his fingers. But he does care, a little too much for his own comfortability. Standing in James' bedroom, he misses the familiar thick arms around his chest holding him tight, and his plush lips tenderly pressed against his neck. His chest feels hollow without Sal, and the cracks begin to expand knowing he might be slipping from him. All he can do is keep his face neutral, like he's been practicing everyday since the beginning, and not let anyone know how much he not only wants Sal, but  _needs_  him.

Murr's car was in the shop, so Q was driving him and his girlfriend to the event. Not ideal, listening to his best friend and his date giggling profusely in the backseat, hands wandering and smiles burning from cheek to cheek. He felt like a cab driver, but then again the messed up perk was having a distraction from his jealousy (as well as it being more ideal than if it was Sal with the mysterious blonde in the back). 

No one knew about Sal and Q. No one _needed_ to. Q had to keep everything a secret, only revealing those mangled, disastrous feelings to his cats on late, sleepless nights. Joe was none the wiser, Murr couldn't see a slap to the face half the time, and they were content that way. It be easier to work through his undeniable feelings for the younger man if he could confine in a best friend, but at the same time it was deliriously wonderful keeping their situation a secret to only the sheets and themselves. The way Sal would hide his face in his arm as if embarrassed, the way his moans were high in pitch, the way he was finally letting Brian leave the lights on when they had sex- it was _all_ for Q to enjoy and keep close. 

He had to stop thinking about it. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and took a sharp turn, shifting the two lovebirds in the back to come back to reality. He had to will the hammering of his heart to a stop before he threw it up. He had to resist imagining the deepest parts of his relationship with his best friend, because soon he's been confronted with the nightmare of being witness to Sal giving heart eyes to someone else. God, he had to man the fuck up.

Brian didn't wait for James and his date, Jasmine. He got out off his car and marched over to Joe, who had an arm around Bessy. They had two kids and years of love between them, but still maintained more self control than James had in his little finger. Although, maybe those were the reasons they restrained from crazed hands and teenage-like lust. They were comfortable with plain touches and harmonious silence. Joe detached from his wife when he saw Q, slapping him on the back.

"Don't you clean up well." Joe muses, nudging Bessy to agree. She does, nodding. Q flexes his shoulders, proud as a peacock before looking around himself. James and Jasmine join them, hands interlocked. He tried to make it seem casual, looking around as if there were endless options as to who he was trying to seek.

"Where's the big guy?" He asks, nonchalantly.

"Probably worrying about his hair or some shit." Joe waves off the idea, putting his arm back around Bessy. "I'm surprised he's bringing a date to one of these things. Mr secretive, suddenly dragging along eye candy that he's barely been seeing two months."

Q's eyes widen. "Two months? I didn't realise it was that long. Thought he'd just started dating her." It was hard enough knowing there was someone else, but to think she'd been sniffing around unbeknownst to Brian's knowledge for several weeks made his stomach churn. He knew Sal knew her in advance, but he thought they'd only just hooked up the weekend before. 

Then like the gates of hell had opened to test his patience, there Sal was walking up the path with a girl hooked on his arm, her face bright with stars and bewilderment. The theatre was flashing, camera shutters clicking like a choir, and there they all stood around the corner from the madness. Sal's cheeks sublimely thick, his dimples lifting the bright-eyed innocence in his green eyes. His hair was gelled back, his beard neatly trimmed, glasses perched on the edge of his nose he pushed it up. It was almost enough to draw a breath of sheer astonishment from Q.

Sal's eyes meet Q's, completely unfazed and hiding any sparks to cause suspicion. There's a beat of self sabotage festering in Q just seeing him so calm and collected. 

"Shall we get this show on the road?" He greets, half to everyone, but mostly to Q. The smirk was all for him, Brian knew this-- he'd seen it far too many times, clouded by shallow moans and blurry confessions. Sal introduced his date to everyone: her name was Melissa, and her accent was nasally with an Italian flare. Her hair bottle blonde and curled, and her body tight, perky with age and control. She was far from what any of them would figure was Sal's type...

But she turned out to be hysterical. A little vain, and way too mesmerised with the flashing lights and the red carpet, but all the same, funny. Sal full on belly laughed more than enough times for Q's liking, and she draped over him like a scarf. It was pathetic in the eyes of Q. She'd been nothing but pleasant to them, but it didn't stop the distain he felt merely standing in her presence. The longer they lingered on the red carpet, soaking up the glitz and glamour of fame, the stronger his jealousy grew. He denied the feeling, but it was there, burning in the twinkle of his eyes. 

Q didn't appreciate being the third wheel to his friends. Obviously he didn't draw any attention to the gloom, but when they weren't looking, he'd let out a sigh. Even more frequently but shamed, he'd steal glances at Sal, wishful he'd been alone tonight too. He was resentful of the fact he wasn't honest in the first place when Sal asked if dating someone else was okay outside of their _totally not_ dating arrangement. The cameras capture a few more photos, the boys get a shot together without any women in the picture, and Quinn's heart almost bursts just from Sal's arm around his waist, squeezing playfully. 

That's when it clicks, he realises what tonight is...a fucking test.

The movie is some over budget war production that was meant to be humorous, and the group had snagged VIP treatment by being a friend of the cast. It didn't matter to Q in the slightest however, not when he stands at the concession counter watching Sal order, entranced by the way his fingers trace his lips as he thought. He almost collapsed when Sal looks his direction and the tip of his forefinger slips past his lips and along his tongue, ending with a smug smile. When Melissa starts fawning over something on the board, Sal stops humouring Q, leading him to pinch the inside of his palm to distract the heat rising in his stomach. 

Vulcano was a sly bastard. He wasn't going to get away with it so easily, that was for sure. 

When everyone starts to take their seats, Q tugs on Sal's sleeve and gives him a knowing look. Dark with lust, evil with rebellion, Sal rolls his eyes and chuckles. He tells Melissa to save them two seats, there's been an emergency he needs to tend to. She barely even blinks, assuring him and going back to conversation with Murr's date. She'd been dragged so far deep into the wonders of fame, he could have thrown Q against the wall where they stood and she'd be too wrapped up in the sparkle of success to notice. The two men speed walk around the corner, waiting for everyone to go into the theatre before Q practically throws Sal into the janitors closet opposite.

They fall in a heap, Q reaching to lock the door as he nips vicious love bites on Sal's neck. The awkward shifting leads them to sit, Sal pulled into Q's lap, biting his lip to resist moaning. It's all rushed, impatient touches, the heat swirling between them, delusions become homely. Sal grinds down against the growing appendage he feels rutted against his ass. Their kisses slow down, turn more passionate and loving as opposed to hot and immediate. Sal holds Brian's face just to remind himself it's all real. 

Q pulls away eventually, keeping their foreheads touching. He strokes down Sal's arms, letting his breath fall as the other man pants. "Just remember if we get caught, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.” He jokes. Sal laughs breathlessly, leaning in to kiss Q again.

"How's about you be the deaf one? Your mumbling's more convincing of that." He takes the lobe of Q's ear in his mouth and tugs. There's a shiver, hands clawing Sal's back as the desire spikes. 

"True." Q basically moans, hands tugging at Sal's cardigan to shed it off him. "You're also the Mexican one of the two of us, right? We'll leave the 'no hablo inglés' to you." He tugs at Sal's shirt, desperate to feel his skin against his own, smother him in adoring kisses that leaves a permanent blush on his skin. Sal pulls back for a second to shed his shirt, arms covering his middle when Q's eyes fall down his bare torso. It's routine by this point - Brian grabs his wrists and stares Sal down like he's warning him of something. "You aint gotta hide from me."

"I'm not."

"Yes you are. You always do."

Sal bit his lip. There's something toe curling about Brian's strength, the dominance in his grip, tight against his veins. "You know me." He whispers, and it's true in more ways than he meant. The destruction of their burning inferno was more dangerous than that of an inevitable heartbreak - it was lingering promises and empty hopes they'd both shone too bright a light on, and the scattered ashes that had left their lungs black, smoke being the only comfort when apart. Sal didn't care for Melissa much, and he _hated_ himself for being the cliche of any cheesy rom-com, but he'd simply asked her to accompany him in the hope they'd end up exactly where they were. She was a great girl, really, and he hadn't regretted the dates they'd been on, but no one left him as full as Q did. Luckily she wasn't too fond of him either, he'd caught her making out with a hippie 30 something behind a bar a few days back, and he didn't care. He just needed her to egg on Q, just the once.

A small slither of a laugh, Brian let's go to hold Sal close, places a long, wet kiss against his chest. He holds his ear against the bare skin and listens to the scarily fast thunder of Sal's heartbeat. It's hypnotic, enticing, and way more intimate than either revealed with words when sober or awake. 

"Whats-her-name know how to please you?" Q muses, a finger grazing up Sal's skin till he was circling one of his nipples, teasingly. Sal gasps on the edge of a hitched defence, hands digging into Q's biceps. "She know you're way more kinky than that baby face cares to admit?"

"Fuck you." Sal breathes, head thrown back. The room almost hurtles into full darkness when a sudden spike of pleasure hits, the sensation of a tongue against his pink nub. He moans, bringing his fist to his mouth to resist further confessions. He hears a muffled chuckle, and then teeth grazing his sensitive skin, causing his hips to instinctively grind for relief. 

"You into big tits, bottle blondes then, aye?" Q teases him, voice low, more vindictive than he intends. His finger return to toying with his nipple - feeling ever to smug when the bigger man shudders in time with the flutter of his eyelashes - and his other hand grabs Sal's jaw to force his eyes on him. "Am I 'been there, done that' territory?" He cocks his own jaw, holding back the wicked snicker when Sal whimpers in frustration, shaking his head frantically. "You just bring her here to take the piss then? You're a bastard, Sally. But it worked.  _God_ , did it work all too well." He latches on to the sensitive spot above Sal's collar bone and suckles, teeth sinking softly. Sal practically squeals. He brings up a deliciously gothic purple bruise, prickled with blood spots, tingling. "You're too good to let go, I swear. Why do I let these girls waste their time- it's cruel honestly, giving them false hope. You're a fucking stunner. Why are we ever fucking apart?"

He knew it was going to be one of those dangerous, airy hopes that'll leave a scar on both of them, but he couldn't seem to control the urge to say what came to mind. "I don't want to be apart. Please don't let go, ever." Sal pants, eyes rolling all the way back into his head-- there should be a headache approaching. "I want to go home with you." He confesses. Sal almost doesn't realise it had been him to say it, till Q holds his face and stops his bucking hips. The smile was sickly sweet, they both swoon as if drunk.

"Drive your little girlfriend home and come over. You're invited, always. My home is your home."

Sal's stomach tightens. "You sure?"

He barely has time to think before the kiss happens again, the most tender and heart felt either could remember sharing. Q's lips thin but powerful, Sal's plush and accepting, they melt into one another. "I'm always sure." Q mumbles through the kiss, never wanting the moment to end. When they first started hooking up, it had been overly eager blow jobs and sex with as little eye contact as possible. Now, without any communication and too much anxiety between the two of them, they were inseparably obsessed with one another. They'd both got so used to building walls, only ever tearing them down when caught in the haze of the lustful blaze, and rebuilding them the second it was over. Rinse, repeat - it wasn't ideal, but against all odds it seemed to be working out so far. 

In the closet, Q promised rough sex, warned Vulcano he'd be walking funny the next day. In return, Sal confessed guilty frustrations, the filthy sins he'd amused himself with as he thought about Brian. They hadn't been so intimate with heat for a fortnight, it felt almost like months. It wasn't until they heard a pair of whispers pass the door they come to their senses and pull apart. Sal's on his back on the floor, Q hovering above him, both their lips swollen, their hair untamed and their cocks out. Q looks at his watch, pinning Sal to the floor still.

"Shit." He smirks. "We've almost been in here for half an hour!" He fumbles with his pants, putting himself away before doing the same courtesy for the other.

Sal's eyes shoot open. "Fuck! Someone's bound to find out, man! Who disappears for that long without an explanation."

"Not us. You go back in," Q rolls onto his side, throwing Sal's shirt at him, "Tell 'em I had an emergency and had to rush home. You would have left earlier but you were worried about me- some bullshit like that. If they ask what, just say family stuff." Q smiles, helping Sal back into his cardigan. He drags his hands down Sal's sleeves till their hands are holding. "No one asks anymore questions after you say that. Too personal."

Sal lifts a brow. "Murray will."

"Maybe." He grunts standing, aiding Sal to his feet too. "So you'll bite his head off as usual." He picks at Sal's hair, restyling it. Apart from the burning cheeks and the glistening lips, he was as good as new. In the wake of a wink, they were Salvatore Vulcano and Brian Quinn again, best friends and colleagues. Nothing more than that. "I'll be waiting back at my place." Q goes to open the door when he's stopped by Sal's hand over his.

"Is this all too convoluted? Should we stop pretending we're love drunk teenagers and start acting our age?"

Brian stares at him, a little too harshly, before scoffing. "Why act 40 when 20 is so much more fun?" His smirk falters. "Do you not want to come over then, is that what you're saying?"

"No! No, of course I want to come over." Sal's hand fell back beside his side. "I hate lying to everyone though."

It's annoyingly admirable. Brian gives him a quick peck on the cheek and sneaks out the room, no one seeing him rush out the theatre and back to his car. He obviously hadn't thought about how Murr would get back home, but that didn't compare to what he had his head set on. Sal knew he didn't have a choice. He sulked out of the room and manoeuvred awkwardly back into the screening, taking Melissa's hand and pretending his heart wasn't still skittish. 

Murr almost had a full on melt down when 1. Sal wouldn't tell him the family emergency, and 2. had to call for an Uber. Joe found it very peculiar but Bessy kept him from pressing any further, and Melissa was still soaking up the lime light. It was no where close to something like the Oscar's, but she was flaunting around so much it may as well have been. They moved on with talks of how mundane the movie was, till Bessy got a call from the babysitter sending them racing home, and Sal pitying James and his date to give them the damn ride home. 

When he pulls up to Melissa's house, it's quiet between them. They both knew where their dating was heading, but it didn't make the ending any sweeter. She was buzzing of the adrenaline of feeling important, and he was more than happy to have given her that parting gift. She asked if he wanted to come in, but there was an obvious disapproval over her own offer, and he was grateful her courtesy wasn't hopeful. He could wait to make sure she got in her house safely and drive away from the scene with no guilt that he was about to fall into the arms of another. It wasn't as if he was serious about Melissa, same way she wasn't about him - they were just a couple of convenient pleasures for either to indulge in:

Sal when Melissa had broken up with her boyfriend for being a drunk, and Melissa when Sal needed more than the cold skin of Brian's back when they slept; too exhausted to leave but too polite to stay. 

Sal sits parked in front of Q's house for a few minutes, thinking over his options. He knows how the night would pan out, and it didn't make sense how his heart battled the confliction of glee and dissatisfaction. Sweaty limbs, tangled sheets, all the lavish lustful wishes he loved also pained his heart because they were lost in the fruitful desires he refused to speak. They were getting there, at a snails pace he was unraveling the mess that was Q's intimacy, but he was terrified that when Q recognises it he'll leave him high and dry, and Sal's year would be a waste.

He was less panicky with Q. He didn't think about germs or fears, and with the gentle touch of Q's fingers stroking up his arm, Sal's paranoia became miles more tolerable. What started with whisky lips soon turned into a companionship that kept him sailing- the damage he'd taken finally being repaired, ready for the seas. 

_** Knock knock knock. ** _

Q didn't even pretend to be shocked when he saw Sal leant against the frame of his door, a snake's grin and the devil's intentions. Hair no longer styled, and face no longer pure. The jig was up, they were allowed to resume where they'd left off.

“Just remember," Sal started, pushing his way through and slamming the door behind him when he had Q's complete, undivided attention on his lips. "If we get caught, you’re deaf, and I don’t speak English.”  

Q chuckles under his breath. He holds Sal's waist close, lashes fluttering as he loosens the reigns and lets the warmth envelop them. "Is this where you want to be tonight, 100%?"

The beat of silence felt like an ocean length, and the waves so deafening he barely hears Sal reply, "There's no where else I'd rather be. With you...always. Or, however long-"

Brian kisses him, cutting him off. He holds the back of his neck, keeping them close. "Always is perfect." He kisses him again. "Come on, bedroom."

"Wa-wait." Sal pulls Q back, keeping their hands securely locked. He looks down at his feet, sheepish to speak, but not quite petrified. Q looks at him curiously as he stumbles for words, half laughing.

"Spit it out, dude. Don't you want to fuck?" 

Sal laughs. "I can't stop thinking about you, and I think it's time we talk about it."

The moment they'd both been dreading- Brian more so. The depths suddenly devouring him and the world around, and even with their hands still together he felt himself slipping free of their hold. He took a deep breath, nodding. There was no avoiding the inevitable, and there was no avoiding the hellfire of Sal's feelings. 

"Okay." Brian replies. He takes Sal's other hand, trying to stabilise the jitters in his legs. "Cool, yeah let's talk about it." 

"It doesn't have to be a long drawn out conversation. I don't want that either, trust me. But I can't keep doing this without some kind of pay off."

Q smirks, grabbing Sal's hips and pulling him close. "Why talk then?" he edges toward Sal's neck, peppering his skin with kisses. "I could just show you what I feel."

Sal's eyes roll back, his hands grabbing Q's back. The heat is intense, flooding his belly as he feels teeth nip his tender skin. He wants to melt into the other man's touch, but he knows they'll forever sweep through limbo if they don't talk about it soon, and Sal is not one for games. 

"Q please," he says, breathy, not able to pull himself away from the pleasure. Q's nips become more feverish, all along the scruff of Sal's jaw down to his collar bone as he undoes the buttons. Sal bites his lip, heavy breaths falling as Q almost rips his shirt open with impatience, and the blush burns his cheeks. Q's lips carry on across his chest. "I know you don't want to talk, but I have to." There's no response, just a hand sliding up his body. He swiftly takes Sal and throws him against the nearest wall, pinning him by the shoulders, eyes baring down on him with a devious allure.

"You look so good tonight, Salvatore." Q admires, voice gravelly. "Should have just skipped the whole premier. Then you wouldn't have had to dangle that girl in front of me for attention." He licks his lips, body falling against Sal's, their lips barely a beat apart. "You don't need to make me jealous to get my attention."

Sal raises a brow, sighing. "You sure? Feels like I have to."

Q backs off, quizzically staring at him, hurt by the doubt although it's not unwarranted really. Sal's honest, and Q's not. "You're the most important person to me, Sal. You never have to make me jealous- I'd drop everything for you."

Sal bites his lip, and before he can stop himself he's unloading the one thing he'd been desiring for far too long. "I want you, Q. I want you in more ways than just sex, and I can't help myself but feel like this." His voice falls weak. "I'm sorry. I don't want to lose you."

Brian is lost for words, starting at him quizzically, but before Sal's heart explodes he smiles. He strokes his knuckles down Sal's cheek. "You'll never lose me. Even if this all goes up in flames, you won't lose me. I'd sooner die than let you walk out my life."

Sal resists jumping in victory. He takes Brian's hands and holds them to his chest. "Let's stop just messing around then. Let's...be something." His grip tightens, fearing that he might fall through their cracks. "Don't you want more?"

Q stutters, looking at their hands. Sal's are younger than his, and better kept, whereas Q's have maintained the wear and tear of years of manual labour. Holding Sal's hands is easy, it's natural, it's everything he wants, but can't seem to admit. Because of commitment issues, or past damage, or the fear of losing control, he doesn't know. He's always been able to turn to Sal and feel strength, and now it's a weird sense of losing flight the way he feels. He's taken off, but he can't keep the high, and he's not sure if he's scared more that he's falling or that he knows Sal is there to catch him. It's an endless circle.

He swallows hard. "I do, but..." He looks up at Sal, dying on the inside, "It freaks me out. I don't want to hurt you."

There's a moment, then a breaking, the dawn approaching. Sal shrugs. "It's kind of little too late if you ask me. We're already this far in. You'll hurt me leaving now same way you would 5 years down the line. I just want to move forward, or move on." He takes his hands away, and Q feels the absence way too intensely. "I can't keep sneaking off, pretending I'm fine when you call me at midnight wanting a blowjob. I'm not okay turning down pretty girls who give me their numbers because I feel guilty."

"If you want their numbers, don't let me stop you." Q sneers, crossing his arms.

"I don't _want_ their numbers, because I only want you, but I feel like I'm in a relationship I'm not _allowed_ to be in. Being with you...I want it all the time, and I'm sorry if that's too real." Sal pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "This was a mistake, I should have just pretended I was fine, as always. I-I've got to go." He turns around before Q can protest and storms to the door, throwing it open and leaving. 

Q stands shell shocked, fingers wrapping into a fist, and when the ghost of his lover finally fades, his feet find their will to run after him. He charges out his house, just able to catch up to Sal before he gets back into his car. He slams the door and pins Sal to the metal of the door, holding his body against his, panting. Sal's eyes are blown up, the green eaten up by his pupils, and before he can fight back he's silenced by Q's lips, hands finding their way to cup his face. He needs Sal to stay- for dear life he can't bear if he walked away with those anxieties Q knew would keep him awake at night.

Sal kisses back, because how can't he? Q tastes of the sweet tang of whisky, and he feels like home. His hands fall to the other mans hips, holding him closer as if there's even any space between them, and a smile cracks their passion. They pull apart, reluctantly, for Q to snicker, foreheads together.

"I don't want to hurt you, but I also don't want anymore Melissa's. So don't go." His hands are desperate on Sal's face, his eyes forever pleading because he can't bare to be alone tonight. "Please. Don't go."

Give a dog a bone. Sal nods, kissing him softly before leading them back into Q's. That night was less consuming heat, and more comforting warmth.


End file.
